Trust
by icantbestill29
Summary: Piper has trust issues. Season four beginning/ Season three finale speculation fic.


It wasn't like I didn't endorse the message. On the contrary, I totally believed it. I had trusted the wrong bitch and she royally fucked me over. I just wish it wasn't so _permeant_ , so final. And I wish above all, I had never let that piece of shit touch me, let alone carve into my arm.

But the overall sentiment, yeah I believed it. Because if there was anything my time in prison had taught me was that you had to worry about yourself, first and foremost because someone would fuck you over in a second if it meant gaining power or an advantage in some way. They talk about family and loyalty but the only kind of loyalty people have is to themselves. I could understand that though. You had to strike before you were struck. It wasn't being an asshole. It was survival.

I came into prison a sniveling little bitch but I had become powerful, feared even. I had become a bad ass. So I trusted no one. It was easier that way. The only person I trusted could see a mile away how insufferable I had become. How I broke her heart little by little with my words of disgust and indifference. And that stupid shit with Stella. The stupid, insignificant _shit_ that cost me Alex. My inevitable person.

She was right. I was gross and I was hard, so hard I didn't even recognize myself. At first, I loved the change. The weight of the power, how in control it made me feel in an uncontrollable environment. I was drunk with it. The old Piper never would have had the balls to give herself a tattoo but I loved every minute of that one, savoring the burn of the needle digging into my flesh. Because it meant I felt something other than emptiness and regret.

I don't know what made me look for her that day or why I decided to look in the greenhouse, but something broke inside of me. It melted my resolve, my need for control, my hunger for power. I needed none of that. But I needed her. The second I saw the guard who I immediately recognized as one of Kubra's lackeys, move toward her, I didn't hesitate. I saw the fear flash in her green eyes and the silent warning she gave me as I stepped behind him, _Get out of here. Save yourself._

Before I knew what was happening I took a shovel from the corner and cold cocked him with it. And again and again until he slumped over and I could see no signs of life from him, Alex watching motionless, her features an unreadable mask. Then I dropped the shovel and sank to my knees as all the air rushed from my lungs like a deflated balloon.

In two strides, she was there, folding me into her embrace, not saying a word. It was then I realized she was trembling and it was then I felt like I could allow myself to cry. Not because I'd killed someone. Because I had almost lost her. I let myself sink into her, felt her stroke my hair and a single word entered my brain. _Home_.

Now we lay together in the chapel, silently curled up into each other, her heart beating a steady rhythm against my back. I feel strangely calm for just having committed murder. I gently kiss her palm, calloused and scratched from digging the hole she'd insisted on digging alone to bury the body in behind the greenhouse, out of sight. We'd made love after that, quietly and urgently, not knowing what else to do. We didn't say much to one another after either because really, what was there to say? Kubra had to find out his guy on the inside was dead and when he did, neither of us was safe. I can't think of that now.

Not when there is Alex lying next to me, her warm breath in my ear, suddenly talkative as hell. She whispers of her love and murmurs I'm sorry like a mantra as if we can ignore the fact that this whole thing is my fault. Her tears wet my hair and I lean up to kiss her, tasting the salt on her lips.

"It's OK, Al. It's all going to be OK." I am lying and we both know it. I suck at being the comforter. That's always been Alex's role and she is good at it. But it's my turn to protect her now.

The funny thing about trust is that it usually comes down to a single defining moment. I never thought I could trust anyone enough to risk my life for them. Even Al. I was always much too selfish. But I did. I killed someone to protect her and I didn't think about the consequences. Nothing else mattered. And unlike the time where I thought I had killed Pennsatucky, I felt no remorse, simply relief that she was safe.

And for the moment, _we_ are safe. We're safe and she's mine and she finally fucking realizes how much I love her.

Alex folds my hands in hers and strokes my arm, frowning when finds my tattoo, tracing the jagged edges with her fingertips. Her eye brows raise. "Fucking seriously?" There is no malice in her voice, only a hint of disbelief, which she quickly tries to balm with a kiss to my temple.

I shake my head. "Don't ask."

I can't fucking wait to get that thing removed.


End file.
